Neither man seemed to be in a rush to speak, and the silence grated on Sev’s nerves. She fidgeted briefly, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel after she pulled onto the highway. Cursing under her breath, she finally reached out to turn on the radio. “Three of us in here and no one saying shit. I swear the two of you would kill a party.”
Vasil targeted her with a steady gaze, leaving her squirming in her seat before he turned to regard the scenery outside instead. Digging in his coat pocket, he pulled out a pack of napkins, freeing one to wipe a bit of blood from the back of one hand. Doavin watched him from behind Sev, eyes flickering from his steady hands up to the blank expression on his face and back again. When he eventually caught Vasil watching him in the rearview mirror, he shrank back against the seat behind him, redirecting his gaze toward the automatic lock on his door.
“You okay, Doavin?” He nodded, not lifting his eyes at the sound of Sev’s voice. He missed the look she shot toward Vasil, but caught the sigh that forced itself from her throat. Ducking his head, he seemed to shrink a little more, hair sliding in front of his face and blocking him from view.
“You don’t have to always be so damn cold you know,” she huffed several miles later.
Vasil didn’t bother to turn his head in her direction. “I’m not being cold.”
“Like hell you aren’t,” she shot back and huffed again at his lack of response. The silence carried them off the highway, down several side streets, and through an alley where the Instance swallowed them without warning. By that time, Doavin had leaned his temple against the cool window. His closed eyes blocked the swirling light from view. In front of him, Vasil and Sev stared at it through the windshield, the magic tinting their faces an eerie red.
“Aeneat? What are you thinking?” Aeneat pulled his arms from his coat sleeves, resting it over the back of his chair before sitting down next to Esme. His eyes washed over the scene framed by the window in front of him, traveling over the soft clouds that forever hovered, unmoving, in the sky.
“That they should invest in a better illusion,” he said, rubbing his hand over his face.
“Aeneat…”
He shook his head, still not turning away from the window. “What are you doing? You know what he is.”
Esme sighed. “Aeneat, you’re being—“
“But how can you do this when you know what he is?” His voice rose in its interruption, and he finally shifted in his chair, turning and leaning toward her. “Explain it to me. I don’t understand!”
“Well what would you have me do?” she reached forward, resting her hand on his knee. “Send him back where he came from? Let him loose in the Lows?”
Aeneat pulled away with a fierce shake of his head, “You know full well what I’d do if it were up to me. Unfortunately, it’s not.”
Esme frowned, straightening as she withdrew the touch from his leg. “You’re forgetting where you come from, Aeneat.”
He laughed as he stood. “No, I’m remembering where we both come from, Esme. That’s the problem,” He stood there in silence for a moment longer before shaking his head once more, plucking his coat from the chair back. “You’re going to regret this. And I’m going to regret standing by you on it.”
“You know your options.” Aeneat stared down at her for a long moment before turning around stalking to the exit, door closing solidly behind him. Esme watched him leave before turning back around in her chair, waiting for the nurse to call her in to see her brother.
